


To Catch a Cat

by Entropy House (AnonEhouse)



Category: Drake's Venture
Genre: Alternate Universe - Criminals, Alternate Universe - Detectives, Alternate Universe - Reincarnation, Cat-burglar, M/M, Mental Instability, Reincarnation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-10
Updated: 2012-10-10
Packaged: 2017-11-16 01:45:18
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,032
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/534102
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/AnonEhouse/pseuds/Entropy%20House
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Reincarnated as a cat burglar, Doughty looks for Drake. Reincarnated as an Interpol officer, Drake looks for the cat burglar whose been stealing Elizabethan artifacts.</p>
            </blockquote>





	To Catch a Cat

(If you are reading this on any PAY site this is a STOLEN WORK, the author has NOT Given Permission for it to be here. If you're paying to read it, you're being cheated too because you can read it on Archiveofourown for FREE.)

Officer Drake had been on the trail for months, and had given up pretending he didn't feel a sneaking admiration for his prey. If the man hadn't danced across Europe brazenly pilfering an odd collection of antiques he wouldn't have fallen under Interpol's purview at all. From all accounts he went to extraordinary lengths to avoid endangering anyone except himself. Still, it was Drake's job to stop him whether or not he admired the grace and courage of the man so far captured only on security cameras while rappelling into museums, stalking along ledges or fleeing as bullets flew about him.

There are more ways to kill a cat than drowning him in cream, and shooting him would be such a pity. The computers would find him. They had taken all the information from capers bearing his signature—literally- the man must have an ego the size of an elephant. Lovely cream vellum calling cards inscribed 'Thomas Doughtie, Esq." were always left elegantly tilted on the empty podiums, cases or frames of the objects he'd taken. Of course, none of the Thomas Doughties actually on record anywhere were him.

His path now pointed to London. England was probably his home territory judging by his obsession with Elizabethan artifacts. Many of the things he stole were historically valuable, but intrinsically worthless. None of them had ever turned up, which was unusual. Generally at least some of the loot eventually surfaced.

Drake had looked over the list of likely targets and chose one... well, because he had a gut hunch. The museum had been more than willing to cooperate with Interpol. He had waited patiently every night for a week before hearing the soft padding of a very large, very clever, cat.

He waited a little longer, listening to the padding approach, to the soft scratching at the lock of the case containing the bait. He waited longer still, until the case creaked open. He wanted the cat's mind and hands both occupied. Then he stepped out of hiding, turning on his powerful torch. "Don't move! I'm an officer of Interpol!"

The black-clad figure whirled, pinned by the light glittering on the eyes hidden behind a hood. "Shoot me and I drop it!" He held out his prize in one hand. "It's irreplaceable! John Dee's shew stone!"

Drake laughed. "It's a copy. You don't think I'd risk the real thing."

"No! It must be the real one, I need it!"

"Why?" Drake moved closer to the cat, fingers itching to rip the black silk hood from his head, to see the face of his adversary for the first time.

"I have to find Drake!"

Drake was mildly startled by that. "Well, then you don't need it any longer. I'm officer Drake."

"Drake? 'Tis it thee?" The cat moved closer, but slowly, as if drawn against his will. "This time wilt thou shoot me, as thee offered aforetime?"

"I'm not going to shoot, unless you force me to it." Drake held his weapon aimed at the cat, but he really didn't want to use it. The fellow sounded insane. He probably had been insane all along.

The cat knelt and put down the shew stone- the genuine article- there hadn't been time to make a replica. "There be swords and axes aplenty here. I do demand my rights as a gentleman to that style." He pulled off the hood and looked up at Drake. He really was as handsome as Drake had imagined. What a pity he was not only a criminal, but also mad as any hatter.

"What are you talking about?" Drake was becoming irritated. This was far too weird for him.

"My beheading. I was shriven tonight, and so I am prepared to meet thy blade with equanimity."

"I'm not going to cut your head off. I'm taking you into custody. Just stay where you are." Drake approached cautiously, taking no chances as he cuffed the cat and frisked him, finding only burglary tools, no weapons. "What's your real name?"

"Verily, I hath but one true name. I do not change with the seasons. I am still and e'er Thomas Doughtie, gentleman of the Inner Temple."

"So, you're religious? Take any substances to see God?"

The man that Drake couldn't stop thinking of as 'cat' was still looking at him with that disconcertingly direct gaze. "I have not been deemed worthy to see God, yet I know him well. 'Tis by his will we return until we set the balance aright."

"We?" I picked up the shew stone in my handkerchief. I doubted there would be a need to gather fingerprints in evidence, but there was no harm in following proper procedure. 

"Thee be Francis Drake."

"No, my name is Pierre." Drake didn't know why he bothered to volunteer personal information to a criminal. "You have mistaken me for someone else."

"No. No." The cat's eyes shone with barely held tears. "Francis must kill me, no one else."

"No one is going to kill you." Drake grasped his arm with one hand. "Come on. Get up." It was awkward, and the cat wasn't trying very hard to help. The stone slipped from Drake's handkerchief, and without thinking he grabbed it barehanded.

Drake gasped at the images that formed and flowed across the stone, images that looked like pale blurs to his eyes, but in his mind were whole scenes, complete with sound and feelings and thoughts. He dropped the stone, which landed on the handkerchief without breaking.

"Francis?"

"Yes. Yes, God help me." Drake looked at Thomas. "I remember."

Thomas smiled. "Then strike off my head."

"No, Thomas. No." Drake looked into Thomas's eyes and still saw the bright glitter of insanity. He put his arms around Thomas and pulled him close. "I'll see that you get help, Thomas."

Thomas leaned against him. " 'Tis still a sin, is't not?"

"No, Thomas, it's not a sin." Drake kissed him.

**Author's Note:**

> For the 2009 DV ficathon Blakefancier's prompt: Drake as an Interpol officer and Thomas as a spy/cat burglar.


End file.
